


Mine

by Ma3landra



Series: The Furyan's Mate [1]
Category: Pitch Black (2000), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Affectionate Riddick, F/M, Minor Character Death, Only With Jack, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ma3landra/pseuds/Ma3landra
Summary: When the words of his Soul Marked Mate finally appeared on his chest at the age of thirteen, he dug up a doctor because he could not - hewould not- disappoint her.





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of non-profited fiction so please hold it as such and know I make no financial gain from this. Everything belongs to David Twohy, Tom Engelman, Jim and Ken Wheat, Vin Diesel, Rhiana Griffith, Cole Hauser, Keith David, Radha Mitchell, Claudia Black and Lewis Fitz-Gerald. I’m just playing around with the characters and story plot.  
>   
> Inspired by:  
>  ** _Riddick does have soul (no matter what he claims)_** by Cinnie, **_It’s really you_** by PerfectlyPorcelain13, and **_Night Fall_** by skyshined.  
>   
>  There **WILL NOT** be sex in this story, if that’s what you came looking for. There will be at the end IN THE SEQUEL. And since we’re on the topic of **Pitch Black** details, if you remember the core sample number it was 76875/87/656. I’m sorta making up my own rules about the calendar dates but I’m also going to try to explain what I think it meant. 76875 was the rock sample serial number itself. The Julian Date was 87 – so the end of March. 656 was an abbreviated version of the year.

* * *

**Galactic Coalition Star-Date 2678.113**  
  
_They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep. All but the primitive side… the animal side. No wonder I’m still awake. Transporting me with civilians. Sounded like 40, 40-plus. Heard an Arab voice – some hoodoo holy man, probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? …What route? Smelled a woman – sweat, boots, tool belt leather. Prospector type, free settlers, and they only take the back roads. And here’s my real problem. Mr. Johns, the blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam, only this time he picked a ghost lane. A long time between stops. Long time for something to go wrong._  
  
_Then smelled the sweetest thing… despite the recycled air. Caused the animal to purr and make it _not_ want to rip its way out of cryo. Or, at least, not for the usual reasons. The desire to protect was instinctive. To curl up and care for it. For _ her.  
  
_The natural aroma of our Mate._  
  
_And it’s about fucking time._  
  
Then things went to hell. The hull was compromised. Either a meteor shower or a tail end of a comet. Killed the pilot. The Hunter-Gratzner was falling. Doomed to crash. Till the cargo got purged. And some of the passengers. The crash tore open what was left of the ship and killed some of the remaining travelers. And the navigator.  
  
As the dust settled and the disembodied voices floated to him through the remains of the space craft trying to figure out what to do next, Riddick pulled at his restraints and peeked through a large snag in his blindfold. There was a gap in the bar far above his head. He would be able to free himself easily if he dislocated his shoulders. He was just about to do that when he breathed in deeply and his animal was suddenly on high alert. Eager - not wary. Listening intently, the soft shuffling of an approaching waif met his ears. He sucked in deeply through his nose to take in the delectable scent that had been teasing him since the moment Johns had wheeled him on board on Taurus 1. Boyish appearance by the flash he caught through the small hole in the fabric, yes, but all female. And gaining the tang of maturity. His animal purred harder, shifting a bit closer to the surface.  
  
Mate!  
  
A breath was sucked in sharply. He knew, even restrained, he was an impressive sight with his tall stature and bulging muscles. It would also be a lie to say he didn’t flex a bit as well. His girl – because she was definitely his girl, she just didn’t know it yet – shuffled forward a bit more.  
  
Audrey Jacqueline Badd, though she preferred “Jack” because for the past two years, it had prevented people from thinking she was easy prey, had heard stories about Richard B. Riddick when she lived on the streets with the other runaways. Her friends and she had all heard he was a stone-cold killer and had broken out of several different slams but he didn’t kill without a reason. He only had a body count of over a hundred a year because _they_ drew their weapons first. He was a ghost, a shadow, and could kill you with a single move. But there were also the stories that he didn’t kill unarmed women or any children at all. That he, in fact, actually protected them. Sometimes. Then there were the stories about his eyes. And she wanted to see if they were as shiny as she had been told.  
  
Jack hesitated only for a moment and then reached up, fingers brushing over the cloth. Forcing himself not to smirk at the big, brass balls on her, Riddick moved his head slightly away from her reach, hearing her huff in exasperation. Manipulating her nearer was too easy. She shambled up closer, brushing against his legs and reaching up once again. The convict jerked his head again and felt her shift fully in front of himself. Finally, he allowed her to remove the band from his face and opened his silvery eyes, turning his gaze down towards his Mate for the first time.  
  
Jack’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening as she gazed up at him. She gasped, “Where the hell can I get eyes like that?”  
  
If he had had any doubts about her being his, to which his animal snarled in response to that, hearing the question he had carried upon his body for the last thirteen years confirmed that she _did_ belong to him. And he finally had her answer. First though, he would have to get the bit out of his mouth and ground his teeth against the hard metal.  
  
She noticed and flinched in regret. “Hang on. I’ll just… remove this,” her soft voice tickled his ears. “Make it look like… it was loosened by the crash…”  
  
Riddick lowered his head so it would be easier for her to reach. Spindly arms brushed by either side of his head and rough but delicate fingers danced over the back of his skull, undoing the clip. He spat it out and heard her kick it away.  
  
Working his jaw to free it from the strain from prolonged exposure to the bit, the convict rumbled out, finally answering her, “Have to kill a few people first, if you want eyes like mine.” He watched her closely for her reaction. She did not disappoint. Her jaw dropped and both her breathing and heartbeat sped up slightly. He could smell her excitement bubble up into the air and smirked at her look of incredulous awe.  
  
“It’s _you_ …” Jack beamed up at him and dropped her gaze, head tilting back and forth, eyes raking over him. He realized she was looking for her Mark, the words printed into his skin at the moment of her birth.  
  
“Pull my shirt down,” Riddick instructed. She complied immediately and sucked in a sharp breath, seeing her jagged scrawl over his heart. “Where’s mine, baby girl?”  
  
The girl’s head whipped up fast at having been ousted so soon and she sucked in a sharp breath. She immediately let go of his shirt and clapped both hands over his mouth, leaning into him even more. Either she was thinner than she should be or she was binding her chest as he couldn’t feel any familiar soft swells as their torsos brushed. Not even slight ones. She gasped, “You can’t fucking tell anyone!” His brows furrowed and his glare demanded if she was challenging him to do otherwise. “Please don’t tell them,” she begged. “They’ll start watching me like a hawk and I won’t be able to even pee by myself. Please…” His beast pressed against the surface once more, encouraged by her pleading. He forced it back down. With Johns here, the convicted murderer would have to keep that under wraps, no matter how badly he wanted to curl around her and mark every inch of her skin as his. She could now be leverage against him.  
  
Riddick licked at her palms to remind her to release his mouth so he could answer. She jerked slightly away, gasping when she realized he had caught one of her thin legs between the strong muscles of both his own, anchoring her against him. Her pants were taut with the new position and he could see the beginning flare of a feminine hip. He nearly growled when she shifted allowing him to shove his leg more fully against her and found her center warm and fluttering with her heartbeat. Now was _not_ the time for that.  
  
“Won’t tell,” he rumbled out, “as long as you tell me your name…” She nodded, absently rubbing his spit from her hands onto her pants. As he waited for her reply, he took in her gangly frame beneath the couple of shapeless, baggy shirts and cargo pants, her gaunt cheeks, the nervous but excited look in her large, hazel-green gaze. He imagined being free and having her to himself somewhere private and being able to strip her down and run his tongue over all that hidden silky skin of hers. She gulped, as if reading his thoughts, and he chuckled.  
  
“Jack,” she finally replied. “My name is Jack.”  
  
He hummed. She seemed confident enough. Perhaps it really was her name. Or, a shortened version at least. Either way, she had been using it for a long time now, surviving on the streets by the look of her.  
  
“Jack…” he tested her name out and saw her shiver, pupils dilating ever so slightly. He smirked. “Now, go find something to plug yourself or you’ll have to explain why a boy has a bloody crotch.”  
  
Jack flushed pink and nodded and turned to do as bid by her Mate, pausing when she glanced down at his thighs caging her one. She looked up at him and he slowly released her. She stepped back and then hesitated, instead coming around behind him and looking over his bindings. The convict turned his head towards her, curious as to what she’d do. When she crouched down, she frowned, seeing how old school the shackles really were. Looking down at the debris at her feet, she easily found a thin strip of metal and picked it up, considering. Glancing toward the opening of the ship, she leaned forward and stuck the metal into the keyhole, slowly moving it back and forth, manipulating the pins. There was a deafening _click_ as the lock released. She pulled the restraints opened and Riddick rolled his shoulders, bringing his arms ahead of him. He reached for the cutting torch hanging in front of him and undid his ankle manacles next before stepping forward and turning fully to the thirteen-year-old watching him intently.  
  
Riddick grinned. “That’ll come in handy,” he praised her, watching her flush under his commendation. Getting back on task, he tucked his forefinger beneath her chin and slid his goggles up from where they rested on his collarbones, concealing his eyes. “Go on and take care of yourself. I’ll see you in a bit.”  
  
“Where are you going?” she caught his wrist with both her hands.  
  
He glanced at her fingers, so thin and pale around his golden wrist. Part of him wanted to growl that she was preventing him from putting distance between himself and Johns. Another wanted to soothe the acrid stink of fear that had begun to permeate her scent. Did she really think he would leave her, just when he found her? He chose to soothe her nerves, and his animal’s. “Scouting. Now, I’ll see you in a bit.” Jack swallowed and nodded, turning away and heading back out into the sun – or should she say ‘suns’ since there were two – once more, resisting the urge to look back at him. If she didn’t see where he went, she had plausible deniability.  
  
Going over to the cargo hold, she found everyone going through Paris’ sarcophagus full of alcohol. And there, on the ground, partially hidden by debris, she discovered her bulging pack with its worn straps and patchwork material. “Have to take a leak,” Jack muttered rudely towards the female captain and Johns as her guy friends would have spoken to her. She took her pack with her to find a secluded spot and discovered the ship toilet was intact. Not working, though. She gagged at the pile of brown in the bottom of the bowl left behind by someone previous. Still, she breathed shallowly, took down her pants and found a small spot of red on her panties. Her Mate had been right. Luckily, her pants themselves had been spared. So far. She would have to monitor the flow and make sure to change it when the tampon filled. She carefully plugged herself up and set her clothing to rights.  
  
Johns was distributing weapons when she returned to everyone else. He had obviously gone to check on his prisoner and found the convict missing. Jack just hoped Riddick would be able to find someplace to hide. “If the man is gone, why should he bother us?” the antiquities dealer demanded, holding his ancient weapons to his chest.  
  
Johns looked up from what he was tinkering with and replied, “Maybe to take what you got. Make to work your nerves. Or maybe to just come back and skull-fuck you in your sleep.”  
  
Jack stared at the man and frowned. Jack remembered the stories she had heard once more. She wondered if he _would_ come to skull-fuck everyone – everyone but her that is, or if it would just be against Johns. If the stories were true, then Riddick had a code and wouldn’t kill anyone unless they were trying to kill him. She wanted to believe that. Had hoped she would get to meet him in passing one day. Now she had. Maybe later, she could even ask him to kill Luka for her.  
  
The memory of those large hands, that stinking breath, and the things he had wanted to do to her, with her… What he _had_ done to Beth and Gabby. Jack shuddered. She hadn’t killed Luka, though a part of her had wanted to. Wanted to break him. Gut him. Shred him to a million pieces. That part both frightened and excited her. She wondered how Riddick would react.  
  
“Sounds like a charmer,” Shazza muttered sarcastically. Paris just gaped after them, not even saying a word when Jack grabbed one of the very old spears, not that she really planned on using it.  
  
Outside, Johns did reconnaissance on top of the ship while the two miners rigged up the O2 breathers. Jack took a hit and sucked in a full lung-full of air. God, that felt so much better. She took another hit and then let the mouth piece drop. She would need to preserve it, especially if she wanted to share with her Mate.  
  
Carolyn called out to the Chrislam priest that they should start looking for water before nightfall when the temperature dropped. Only to have Paris run up to them and tell them they had something dire to look at. A third sun… A blue sun… compared to the yellow and orange ones in the opposite direction.  
  
“You going with them or are you going to help me out, Jack?” Shazza asked. The disguised girl glanced at the group heading toward the blue sun and then back at the prospector. She decided to stay. It would be easier for Riddick to find her again that way. “Stay close then.”  
  
Jack nodded and spotted the antiquities dealer being a lazy shit. Taking one of his Australian weapons – she thought it was called a boomerang or something, _such a stupid name_ – she snuck up behind him and caught him under the jaw, startling the pompous man. “He could probably get you right here, right under the jaw and you’d never even hear him coming, because that’s just how good he is,” she murmured into his ear.  
  
Having regained his bearings, Paris retorted, “Tell me something. Did you run away from your parents, or did they run away from you?” Jack instantly stepped away from him, all humor draining out of her as the memory of their savaged bodies flashed through her brain. Of the many pieces strewn about what had once been their living room. So much blood… _Too much_ … It was why she had run to Luka… Only to find out the truth…  
  
Jack headed to Shazza, hoping the woman would be able to distract her from those terrible memories.  
  
It was a bit later that Paris suddenly appeared and demanded if Jack was the one making noise. The ‘ _boy_ ’ and the woman glanced at each other, brows furrowed. “What are you going on about?” the miner demanded. “He’s been right here with me, helping the whole time.” Paris would not let it go though and then all three of them heard the telltale noise and saw the shadow of an approaching figure through the holes in the wall. Jack’s brow creased. Was he coming for her? No, he wouldn’t be so obvious… would he? She hurried forward to see through a gap in the metal. No, the pants were wrong. Too dirty and ragged. Still, Shazza got into position to attack whoever it was approaching them. Just in case. Almost too late did Jack see it was an injured stranger. She screamed out and luckily the woman stayed her hand inches from slicing the person’s face.  
  
The man panted, adrenaline probably coursing through his veins and having wet himself. “Oh, thank god,” he breathed. “I thought I was the only one who got out of the crash al—” Gunshots rang out and blood sprayed all over the woman.  
  
Jack stared at the dead body at her feet. It was mostly intact except for the holes in his chest and throat. So much more human than Mama and Daddy had been when… The girl focused on the now. “It’s was just somebody else. It was just somebody else from the crash!” she screamed at Zeke. How could he have shot him?  
  
Slight movement off in the distance had her glancing up and saw Riddick sitting in Paris’ chair. He raised the bottle of alcohol towards her and then took a swig. She took a step forward and he put a hand up, telling her to stay put for a while longer. He then got up and went off again and she stared after him as he moved towards where Zeke had been digging the grave.  
  
Jack and Shazza returned to work and the woman’s husband went to bury the new body. Gunshots rang out once more and Jack took off in their direction, following after the longer-legged dark-haired woman, fear twisting her gut. He _couldn’t_ be dead. Riddick _couldn’t_ get shot. He _had_ to survive so he could take her with him and they could be together and do… whatever the hell it was Riddick did when not stuck in slam. When Jack finally reached the grave, her lungs ached from the lack of O2 and she stumbled to her knees, gasping. The pit was bloody but empty, save for a small hole tunneling into the hill. Angry shouts grabbed the thirteen-year-old’s attention and she forced herself to her feet, lurching up the hill just in time to see the remaining prospector slam her boot into Riddick’s chin and knock him unconscious.  
  
Oh, thank god, he was still alive.  
  
“Take a hit,” Shazza commanded of Jack when she noticed the gangly brunet panting heavily. Her voice softened as she added, “You need the oxygen and I will not have _you_ dying on me.” The older woman’s dark eyes welled up with tears, and while the breather was in her mouth, the child wrapped her arms about the woman, offering what little comfort she could. The woman embraced the teen in return and stifled a sob, pressing her face into the dusty cap covering the short brown hair.  
  
“Oiy, I need your help,” snapped Johns, breaking the moment. “This fucker’s heavy.” Shazza pulled away and glared down at the prone figure of Richard B. Riddick. Jack stepped forward. “Kid, you’re not gonna be able to do shit with those skinny ass arms of yours. Just go make sure the way is cleared for us to put him up in the ship.” The girl in boy’s clothing wanted to argue but instinct dictated that she say not a word. If she did, she would probably be found out. Their relationship, as new as it was, would be found out. She doubted any of them, the prospector in particular at this precise moment, would take too kindly to realizing the boy was actually a girl and that _she_ was the other half to the ‘dangerously murdering man’. She was the one who would best compliment him. Understand him. Have his back, fight with, and if necessary, even die for him.  
  
Once Riddick was secured once more, Jack was torn between going to check up on her Soul Marked and trying to avoid suspicion. She finally gave in, knowing she could excuse it as childish curiosity. She stepped quietly down the ladder well and watched Carolyn jerked back from Riddick, his shined eyes flashing beautifully. She felt a smile spread her cheeks and met his gaze when it wandered over to her. “Where the hell can I get eyes like that,” she asked again sentimentally.  
  
Riddick smirked, replying, “You gotta kill a few people.”  
  
Having expected his answer, Luka still flashed through her brain and she retorted, “Okay, I can do it.”  
  
Riddick saw the flash of emotion in her eyes and, in that moment, he saw the animal that was begging to be born and released within her, the one that would match his own. More for Carolyn’s sake, he continued, “Then you gotta get sent to a slam, where they tell you you’ll never see daylight again. You dig up a doctor and you pay him 20 menthol Kools to do a surgical shine job on your eyeballs.”  
  
“So you can see who’s sneaking up on you in the dark?” Jack felt her face splitting as she once again smiled widely at him. He nodded, telling her ‘exactly’.  
  
“Leave!” Fry snapped, horrified by the conversation and the clear idolization the ‘boy’ had for the murderer. Softening her voice, she repeated herself. Jack glanced his way for confirmation and he nodded while the docking pilot’s gaze was not on him. Meanwhile, his animal was purring at her recognition to look to him first. The teen sighed and went back up the stairs, hazel-green eyes lingering on him until he was blocked from view.  
  
Carolyn came out of the ship a few minutes later, telling them she was going to go down the hole to see if Riddick was telling the truth. That there was something worse than him on this planet and it was deeper down the hole. Jack slipped back inside and meandered over to him. “Leave the chains, sweetness,” he instructed, seeing her reaching for his shackles once more. At her question, he replied, “I sent the blonde on a quest to see what’s lurking in the dark. This’ll gain trust, when they find their answer, especially if I’m still here when all is said and done. And I’ll have them take the chains off themselves. Destroying them in the process so they can’t be used again.” Jack thought his words over and nodded, but still pouted anyway. “Head on back out, now. Don’t let them get suspicious of your absence. And don’t you dare fucking volunteer to go down the hole, baby girl.” His voice hardened with the last command.  
  
“‘Kay,” she mumbled, suddenly leaning in to brush her surprisingly soft lips over his chapped ones, cheeks going hot.  
  
Riddick growled, tightening his muscles so he didn’t lunge after her. “Don’t fucking tease,” he snarled, “or I’ll put you over my knee when I’m free.” His girl blushed darker at the implication of that and ran off, following at the back of the group to the grave. He breathed deeply, willing his erection to go away, even as he licked his lips to savor the slight lingering taste of her. It had been too long since he had a woman.  
  
The man listened hard for the next several minutes and smirked when Johns came running back to him, offering him his freedom, mainly because he was ‘tired of chasing him’. Like Riddick believed that crock of bullshit. The creed was greed for a reason. Even if he let him go for now, he’d be back later. But the shackles were shot off him, rendered useless, and the shorter man – though not by much – was given his freedom. Of course, _he_ had to be the one to drag the battery cell like a good boy. Johns fucking whistled and everything. Oh, he was going to enjoy killing that merc when he got the chance.  
  
“It’s nothing we can’t repair so long as the electrical adapts,” Carolyn assured them as the remaining crash survivors contemplated the tiny ten-man skiff that had seen better days. Not that Riddick planned on having nearly that many with him when he finally got off this rock. No, he planned on only having _one_ passenger. Possibly two for a better cover story.  
  
His girl stood at the top of the ramp and met his gaze, having found little yellow rimmed goggles somewhere along the way. He noted her overstuffed bag tucked away inside the ship for safe keeping. Smart girl. The corner of his mouth jerked up and then glanced away. Still not the time yet.  
  
“It doesn’t need to be,” the convict replied to the prospector’s comment of the itty-bitty craft not being a star jumper. “Take a 2-seater like this back up to the Sol-Track shipping lanes. Stick a thumb out. Bound to get picked up inside of two weeks at worst. A day and a half at best.” He stepped forward to help with any repairs needed just to be able to do something and made everyone nervous. And of course, Johns volun-told him to go check out the containers and to see if there was something to patch the wings. He scowled but turned, seeing Jack already wandering off into a nearby building. He glanced over his shoulder but the merc became distracted, leaving Riddick to trail after his wayward Mate.  
  
The thirteen-year-old let herself into the first building she could open the doors of. Glancing around, it looked like a living area and she stepped inside. It was dim in here but there was still abundant light off to the left of the room. She moved about the furniture and examined the shelves, seeing if there was anything interesting to be discovered. She found an old fashioned pair of beard clippers and a bright idea blossomed within her brain. She slid her cap off.  
  
The door at her back opened and closed quietly.  
  
Jack turned to see who she was sharing space with and gasped, coming nearly nose-to-chest with Riddick. Tilting her head back, her hazel-green gaze met his black goggles and she licked her lips, remembering the hint of a kiss she had bestowed upon him in a heat of the moment gesture. The shined eyes beneath the dark lenses flashed, following the innocent movement and he stepped forward, backing her into a table’s edge. His arms caged her in, leaving only inches between their bodies. Her heart was thudding in her chest as he slowly lowered his face, nose tickling the fragile skin of her throat just above her wildly thrumming pulse. He breathed deeply, looking to detect any negative emotion. A bit of nervousness. A twinge of guilt – _but what for?_ A whole lot of anticipation. The barest hint of budding arousal. No fear. Not even a drop. The contented purr slipped from him and caused her to shudder in response.  
  
Riddick chuckled. “Mine,” he rumbled into her ear before nipping at it sharply. She hissed, whimpering when he soothed the bite with the tip of his tongue. “Got it?” She nodded in understanding, turning her face, lips brushing his cheek lightly. He groaned, giving into temptation. His hands snapped up, grabbing her jaw and her barely developed hip as he slanted his mouth over hers, tasting her, teasing himself while giving himself something to look forward to when he got the two of them off this rock and somewhere secluded.  
  
The convict released her after a moment with a smirk as she leaned forward, chasing. “Show me,” he growled.  
  
“What?” she croaked, eyes fluttering open, confused at the question.  
  
He rubbed his nose over hers, muttering, “Show me my Mark.” He pulled his tank down, revealing her scrawl over his chest, right above his heart again. Her pretty green-brown eyes glittered with awe once more. Her fingertips tickled across his skin, across her first words spoken to him. “Now, show me _my_ Mark… Jack…”  
  
The convicted murderer nearly groaned as the young teenager turned her back to him, bending over slightly so that little ass brushed gently against his crotch. Such a submissive position to satisfy his animal. She pulled up the back of her shirts. There, on the fourth lumbar down, tattooed upon her mother fucking sweet spot, were his first words spoken to her in his bold, blocky print. He gripped her hip with one hand and pressed her back against him, showing his growing appreciation as his free hand stroked over the black ink. She gasped and looked over her shoulder at him, cheeks going pink. He pressed a little harder, promising both himself and her of pleasures yet to come. Once they were free of here.  
  
“When we’re on our own,” Riddick rumbled into her ear, drawing her back into an upright position, her bottom still against his hardened need, “I’ll teach you.” She nodded, turning to face him. He allowed a hand to drift up, under her shirt over her ribs. He frowned. He could feel them she was so thin. That explained the lack of developing breasts. “First, though, I’ll need to feed you.” Humiliation filled her eyes and she cringed. He growled and jerked her chin back up. “Don’t be ashamed,” he growled. “I’ll take care of you.” Jack’s eyes widened only to build up with tears. Hiding her emotion, she pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms about his torso. With the lack of audience, he allowed this, though she’d have to learn to not get too used to it. He lowered his face into her short brown hair and noticed the clippers in her right hand. “Gonna use those?”  
  
Jack remembered the beard trimmers and nodded. “Thought it’d be a good idea,” she murmured shyly. “No girl I know would do that willingly and everyone would think I’m trying to… what’s the word…?”  
  
“‘Emulate’ me?” Jack nodded and he cocked his head. It had merit and was a bit of an ego boost at the same time. “Sit down, I’ll do it for you,” he said in way of agreement, guiding her over to the nearest chair. “Now, don’t move.”  
  
Jack attempted to remain perfectly still as she listened to the snip of the blade through her brown locks and tried not to tremble at the tickle of her hair pooling around her neck and shoulders. “I heard stories about you, growing up,” she broke the silence. “That you kill at least a hundred people a year but not until someone attacks you first…” He hummed, waiting for a question. “Is that true?”  
  
“On average, that number’s right but yes, only in self-defense,” he replied after a moment. “I was already in slam, though, when I actually had my first kill. This old fuck wanted to _use_ me.”  
  
Jack stiffened. “Like Luka then,” she muttered, more to herself than him.  
  
“Luka?” the name came out sharply and his hands stilled, hair not quite chopped all the way off.  
  
The girl fidgeted her hands before admitting, “He… took me in after… There was nothing _left_ of Mama and Daddy… nothing discernable at least… Luka seemed nice… but he wanted… I didn’t – I wouldn’t… not _that_.” She swallowed tightly. Taking a steadying breath, her voice firmed as she added, “He’s the one who had them killed. I don’t know the reason, though. That’s why I stowed away… so he couldn’t… I wasn’t going to end up like Gabby or Beth.” She closed her eyes and shuddered, once more remembering those large hands and that rank breath. Luckily the statue had been on the table. It had been heavy enough. And there had been so much blood. But head wounds bleed a lot, even if they were small. Or so she had been told.  
  
“If you ask it of me,” Riddick snarled out, shaving the rest of her head with steady hands, despite the boiling of his blood, “I’ll find him and kill him.” He swiped her head, neck and shoulders free of hair, cutting away the few bits he missed the first time.  
  
Jack admitted, “I wanted to… do it myself… I wanted to hurt him, so badly… but I was also… There was a part of me that was so terrified...”  
  
Riddick spun her chair sharply and crouched so they were eye-level, despite the goggles on his eyes. “You were… are thirteen—”  
  
“I could be fourteen, depending on how long we were in cryo,” she confirmed.  
  
He nodded, “Plus, you’re a bit of a thing. Once we’re out of here, I’ll teach you how _never_ to feel helpless like that again.” Jack felt her eyes sting a second time and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He sighed and pressed his face into her, breathing deeply. His animal rumbled beneath the surface of his skin, luxuriating in the feel of his Mate in the circle of his arms. To be able to provide her with this comfort. “Alright,” he muttered, pulling away. “Come on. I want to do some recon a bit before Johns comes looking.”  
  
Jack nodded and trailed after him, sliding her new goggles onto her head. “He’s a merc, isn’t he?” she asked. He hummed in reply, nodding, leading her back outside and towards a round building. He stooped down suddenly and pulled a pair of broken glasses from beneath the dirt. “Why… wouldn’t they have needed those? Why would they leave those here?” she queried. He frowned and pulled at the doors to the Coring Room, only to find them chained from the inside.  
  
“There you are!” Johns came around the corner. “The fuck you doing, kid? Thought I told you to stay away from this criminal?” He stepped forward, intent on dragging the would-be boy away from his payload only to have the shorter man step in front of her and growl lowly in his throat. A blond brow rose. “Oh, got a thing for kids now, do ya?”  
  
“I wasn’t the one actively frequenting The Doll House,” the convict retorted viciously.  
  
Jack glanced up at her the convict, wondering if he was referring to what she hoped he wasn’t. “Really,” the merc simpered, “cause that’s where I caught you.” Riddick snarled quietly, only to have a double barrel shoved into his face. “Behave,” Johns goaded. “You don’t want to scar the kid when your brains splatter all over him.” Horror crossed over Jack’s face as she glanced up and then hatred made itself know as she glared at the merc. She hoped Riddick killed him before they got off the planet. Or maybe he’d let her kill him. That would be a good first kill, saving her Mate. “Now, come on, both of you. Can’t wait to see the looks on their faces,” he chuckled, referring to her new look. Johns turned and walked away.  
  
“…What’s The Doll House?”  
  
Riddick refused to answer.  
  
Everyone stared when Jack came into the galley, grabbing herself a goblet of water and downing it happily. The liquid wasn’t cold but it was still so refreshing. She stepped over to Imam to get a refill, ignoring Paris’, “It’s the winner of the lookalike contest.”  
  
At least no one seemed to catch on that she was, in fact, a girl.  
  
Jack was on her third drink when she sat back, putting herself as far from the merc as she could on the semi-comfortable couch as it was the only open seat and she had an easy view of Riddick. Everyone began to wonder who the previous people on the planet had been, why they had left all their belongings, and what the means of their escape had been. Riddick quickly put a damper on any hope. “These people didn’t leave. Come on,” the convict said. “Whoever got Zeke, got them. They’re all dead. You don’t think they left with their clothes on the hooks, photos on the shelves.” Shazza attempted to point out a possible weight limit. Riddick raised a brow. “I know you don’t prep your emergency ship unless there’s a fucking emergency.”  
  
Hating the prospector for ganging up against him, Jack verbally agreed, “He’s fucking right.” Johns, surprisingly enough, was the one to snap about her language.  
  
Carolyn defended her. “He’s just saying what we’re all thinking.” She turned to Riddick since she got the feeling he knew more, or at least had pieced together more, of what had befallen the missing geologists. “So, what happened? Where are they?”  
  
That was when Imam noticed there was a child missing. “Has anyone checked the Coring Room?” As if on cue, a childish scream pierced the air and everyone turned to run towards it. Riddick reached out to grab Jack but she had darted out of his reach. He swallowed a snarl, watching the docking pilot shove his girl back once they shot the doors open and managed to pull them open. He really _was_ going to have to put her over his knee.  
  
A few of the fliers flew about the Coring Room and then sank into the open well, disappearing into the darkness once more. The missing child was found then, eaten to the bone.  
  
While the holy man and his acolytes preformed a burial, the rest inspected the well, seeing the dozens of skeletons at the bottom. Then Fry found out a horrible truth – that soon the world would be plunged into darkness and it would be lasting quite a while. Riddick had smirked and asked them all, _‘You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?’_ No one had been pleased with him. However, instead of hurrying to get the cells, the docking pilot and the merc had everyone wait around a bit longer. Riddick took this time to use an old tooth of one of the bio-raptors to shave his head as close as he clipped his girl’s. After that, he cornered the blonde to start breeding seedlings of doubt so that two of his seven surviving problems would possibly take care of themselves once the darkness enveloped them. If not, he knew he could take care of the survivor, though he figured it would more than likely be the merc-thorn in his side.  
  
Then the suns – all three of them – began to set.  
  
“Where’s Riddick?” Jack shouted as everyone piled into the sand-cat. The convict took a running leap and landed beside her, tucking her into his side briefly before sitting across from her. She smiled up at him as they travelled beneath the old bones, the vehicle unfortunately knocking into it and creating a blockage. The convict mentally cursed. That was going to cause a problem.  
  
There was a flurry of activity as they prepped the dying sand-cat and put all four of the cells into the back, only to have the remaining sun slowly blocked and darkness quickly drop. Everyone watched on in horror as the raptors flew out of their tunnels and stretched their wings, finding freedom from the confining caverns below. The humans made a mad dash for the shipping container, Riddick and Shazza the last of the pack.  
  
Jack screamed at the miner as the woman was then ripped apart by the creatures, leaving Riddick free to stroll the remaining way to his Mate and the other survivors. She tucked into his side, eyes damp, and he allowed it, squeezing her shoulder gently, much to the antiquities dealer and the docking pilot’s surprise.  
  
“Why didn’t she stay down?” the girl whimpered.  
  
The eight survivors delved deeper into the shipping container to regroup, especially after it was discovered there was a breach in the hull and Imam almost became a corpse himself. The loss of both remaining acolytes caused everyone to huddle around the cutting torch and Jack crawled into Riddick’s lap, seeking comfort and safety. Everyone lifted brows at the convict’s nonchalance to having the gangly child curled into him. Yeah, he was going to have to talk about public displays of affection once they were alone. “You getting soft on me, Riddick?” Johns queried, eyeing the dozing young teenager.  
  
The convict snorted. “Nah, the pup just followed me home. Thinking of keeping it, teaching it to do tricks and shit,” he joked dryly. Suddenly Jack sat up rigidly, looking uneasy. “What’s wrong, kid?”  
  
She glanced at Johns and then back to him, leaning in and whispering, “I… _really_ gotta… pee.” Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  
  
“What’s wrong with him?”  
  
Riddick growled quietly, cutting it off when he noticed her shoulders rising about her ears in shame. He wasn’t ready to oust his Mate but it looked like he was going to have to. “Kid’s gotta go,” he replied, helping her to her feet.  
  
The merc frowned, not understanding. “So just whip it out and pee with your back to us.”  
  
Riddick shifted in front of her, hand gripping the wrapped hilt of his ‘personal grooming device’ and admitted, “ _She_ can’t.”  
  
Everyone’s heads whipped in the duo’s direction. The truth slowly bloomed in all of their eyes as they stared at the fidgeting girl, finally recognizing the more feminine features hidden beneath dirt and a lack of nutrients. “I didn’t get messed with when everyone thought I was a guy,” Jack admitted quietly, fidgeting her fingers over the muscles in Riddick’s forearm. “It was better, easier, and no one kept as close an eye on me.”  
  
Johns suddenly threw his head back and laughed. “Explains The Doll House,” he chuckled.  
  
The convict snarled. “Unlike you, I _wasn’t_ touching the under-aged girls being sold there by the hour.” Jack finally understood. The three other adults looked nauseated at the implications, watching the merc’s jaw tighten, a muscle jumping in his cheek as his teeth ground together.  
  
“You were looking for me?” Jack asked hazel green eyes wide as she stared up at him with awe and another unknown emotion passing through them that made the convict’s heart squeeze in his chest. The animal wanted to rub itself over her in affection. And to lay claim on her by drowning her scent with his own. He silently nodded and saw everyone frown again, trying to put together the puzzle with some pieces missing.  
  
Again, Johns was the one that spoke up first. “You gotta be shitting me,” he muttered. “ _That_ little bit of a thing is your Marked?” He snorted. “Well, this just keeps getting better and better…”  
  
Jack shifted uncomfortably beside her Mate, her overly full bladder twinging painfully. “I still gotta pee,” she muttered, eyes not looking at anyone.  
  
Carolyn shifted forward, grabbing both flashlights and heading to some of the debris piled up high enough so that they would have some cover and not be too far from the group. “Kid,” Riddick muttered, grabbing his girl’s arm. “Change it, while you’re at it.” Her cheeks went pink at the implication but nodded, checking her pocket and finding the feminine hygiene product still inside. Once they were hidden by the wreckage, Carolyn didn’t look directly at the girl but kept the light flashing around so as to keep the two of them safe while the males all shifted awkwardly at the sounds of shifting clothing and then the releasing of a saturated bladder. Riddick’s muscles bulged slightly as he kept a close eye on the merc and keeping himself between them. The girls muttered quietly to themselves, there was a bit more movement and then they rejoined the group, the younger looking a whole hell of a lot lighter. She immediately curled into her Mate’s side, her hands stinking of sanitation gel.  
  
“Okay,” Carolyn addressed the group. “We have two hand lights and a cutting torch. There’s probably something we can rip out of the ship. Anyone else got anything to light up or burn or something?”  
  
Paris nodded. “Spirits. Anything over 45-proof burns rather well.” He admitted to having about ten when questioned.  
  
“Johns, you got some flares.” The merc nodded in confirmation. “Maybe we’ll have enough light.” When he demanded to know what the fuck she was talking about, she replied, “We stick to the plan. We get the four remaining cells back to the skiff and we get the hell off this rock.” Paris pointed out the sand-cat was solar. “So, we carry the cells. We drag them. Whatever it takes.” Johns was highly against this plan, theorizing that the darkness couldn’t last too long and they could possibly just wait it out.  
  
Imam argued gently, “I had an impression from the model. The two planets moving as one and there would be a lasting darkness.” They continued to argue, the merc and the docking pilot, until the tension was so thick that no one wanted to breathe wrong and get rounded on.  
  
“You’re 79 kilos of gutless meat,” Fry hissed. “That’s why you can’t think of a plan.”  
  
Johns was on his feet, pulling his gun as he demanded, “Is that fucking, right?” Riddick had suddenly moved and pressed himself in between the two blonds, Jack watching from where he had left her. “Where the fuck you think, you’re going?” The merc had his gun pointed up under Riddick’s chin and failed to notice the shiv that was pointing at his crotch until Riddick began to tap it just beneath the femoral artery. “Okay.” He wouldn’t risk one of his most favorite body parts. He sat back down with a wry smirk.  
  
“This solves nothing.” Imam’s voice remained gentle, not wanting to see the two leaders and the convict fight and kill each other as they seemed wont to do. He turned to the older female. “You are sure you can get us there, captain? Even in the dark?” Imam asked.  
  
She replied, “No, I can’t. But _he_ can.” Fry looked to Riddick, seeing his gaze move from his Mate to the older female and shrug his shoulders.  
  
Getting over from the cargo hold to the remains of the ship with only a slight jump when one of the bio-raptors skimmed by Johns, everyone separated to do their parts. The two girls went for the emergency strip lighting, both wrapping the tubes thoroughly about their torsos. Paris collected all of his remaining bottles of booze and snaked strips of cloth down into them to create Molotov cocktails. Riddick and Imam pulled the cells after finding a luggage sled. With an extra battery back in the middle, the tubing was able to be connected. The cells were then loaded and Johns… had gone missing.  
  
Seeing the cutting torch, Jack remembered then that Shazza and Zeke had been prospectors and began to dig through their belongings, looking for anything useful.  
  
“What you looking for?” came the deep rumbling voice she was growing to love, seeing her put a small hand light in between her teeth. She gave a stifled shout of triumph around the cylinder in her mouth and presented two of four mining lanterns. He smirked. “Good girl,” he complimented, taking the first half of them. “We can rig these to the sled.” He grabbed her gently by the back of the neck and brushed his mouth over her scalp. He muttered, “Stay in the middle, as close to the light as you can get. You step away from the light and live, you will _not_ like me for a long time. Got it, sweetness?” The animal was restless, pacing back and forth beneath his skin, not liking putting its Mate so close to danger but the man knew it was the only way. Riddick finally released her when she verbally stated that she both understood and promised to do as he said before leading her to where they were gearing up to head out.  
  
Twice.  
  
“I’ll be running about ten paces ahead,” Riddick announced to the rest of the group. “I want light on my back but not in my eyes.” He flinched away from the brightness, his shined eyes squinting slightly.  
  
The convict pushed open the door to the ship and everyone gathered around, dragging the sled out onto the sand, nervous anticipation running through all their veins. The antiquities dealer placed his five bottles onto the sled next to the cells and adjusted his own rigging of emergency strip about his body. Imam and Johns took the two lead harnesses and strapped them over their shoulders. Carolyn made sure everything was rigged up in place, grinning at the four lanterns the girl had found, and pulled Jack next to her.  
  
Riddick looked them over and nodded, eyes lingering on the thirteen-year-old, turning his back on the survivors and began to move forward, nearly growling at the circling monsters staying just out of sight from the rest of the group. The chilling cry of at least one of them had the group slowing down. Paris threw the torch away as it burned out and reached for one of his bottles. A flare fell out and rolled down the hill. Jack almost went after it and then remembered Riddick’s promise. She turned away from it and continued moving forward.  
  
Another echoing cry was the only warning before Jack cried out, diving to the sand as one of the bio-raptors attempted to fly overhead and grab at her. Riddick instantly whipped about, a snarl ripping through his bared teeth, eyes tracing its movements. It circled back around and swung for Paris this time since he and Johns were the only ones not crouching down into the light. The antiquities dealer panicked and began crawling to what he thought was safety. Instead, he pulled the rig apart and the lights dimmed, save for the four lanterns. When his emergency strip lighting dimmed to death and the inky darkness settled around him, he realized his mistake, only for it to be too late. One of the raptors sliced his back and he was quickly torn apart as he breathed his last.  
  
Carolyn lit up the flares, dispersing the remaining cocktails for everyone to hold as well. The now useless tubing lights were cast away and unrigged from the sled. Riddick came back to the group, looking over his girl briefly to make sure she was unharmed, ignoring Johns’ sarcastic quip. With his eyesight, he could see the creatures ripping the newest corpse to pieces, admiring the sheer violence of it. He glanced to his Mate who was peering into the dark as well, panting slightly in fear. He would make sure she survived this. No matter who else had to be used for bait.  
  
The group continued forward, finally making their way to the canyon, only to stop when they realized he had had them cross their own tracks. Everyone began shouting at him, demanding if he even knew where they were or if he was lost.  
  
“Listen!” the man snapped, instantly getting silence. Ahead, the ghostly sounds of the creatures’ sonar bounced off the gulley. “I circled around trying to come up with a plan on whether or not to go through the canyon or attempt to go around. With the bones blocking the way, it’s going to take time to clear the path. With more of the light gone, it’s gonna be Death Row up there.” He knew that someone of the group was going to die because of Shazza’s stupidity and he was just trying to make sure it wasn’t Jack.  
  
Johns dragged Riddick off, muttering, “Ain’t all of us gonna make it.” Riddick snorted. “Five of us left. If we could make it through the canyon and lose just one, that would be a feat.”  
  
“Not if I’m the one,” Riddick shot back.  
  
The merc offered, “Well, what if you’re one of five?” The shorter man raised a brow, listening intently. “Battlefield doctors get to decide who lives or die. They call it triage.” The convict snorted, pointing out that most called it murder if he was the deciding factor. “Either way, I think it’s something you can grab onto.”  
  
Jack could barely hear what they were saying but when Riddick glanced back at her, she knew it wasn’t good.  
  
“Alright, here’s the deal,” Johns finally got to the heart of it. “You do the girl and I’ll keep the rest of them off your back.” Riddick froze. There might have been two girls but only one was bleeding and the merc was a sick enough fuck to suggest to the murderer to ghost his own Soul Marked. Not that the blue eyed devil had a Mark of his own. “It’s not too big of a job for you, is it?”  
  
Riddick’s voice came out deeper, more gravelly as he snarled, “I’m just wondering if we don’t need a bigger piece of bait.”  
  
With a flurry of movement, the two finally squared off and Johns missed both shots. Riddick immediately grabbed the blond and threw him past the group. Jack hurried forward, helping Carolyn and Imam drag the sled onward, edging them around the battling duo and that much closer to the canyon and to the settlement. Now behind the group, blows were traded and then the two alpha males circled each other. Riddick slowly slid out his shiv from his boot.  
  
“One rule,” the felon rumbled out. “Stay in the light…” The merc’s flare died out. He slashed at the taller man and knocked the gun from his hands before knocking him back into the pile of bones with a clatter. Stepping forward instantly, he jabbed the short blade into the merc’s gut and jerked his arm across, blood splattering his own torso with the movement. “You should have never taken the chains off, Johns!” Riddick taunted, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “You were a real brave fuck before. A real badass…” He snorted. “The chains… The gauge… The badge… Told you to ghost me.” He turned away and heard the creatures descend, teeth chomping through the merc quickly, hungrily.  
  
He turned away and found the group heading a little off course. Reaching the struggling group, he grabbed Jack by the elbow. Carolyn screamed at his sudden appearance. Ignoring her, he took over the sled’s harness from Fry, keeping Jack to his immediate left. “A little to the left, baby girl,” he muttered for her alone, “but good job getting them forward.”  
  
“Where’s Johns?” Imam asked.  
  
“Which half?” Riddick shot back. The Chrislam priest and Carolyn exchanged glances and shut up. They were so close. No need to get shivved themselves.  
  
“He wanted to use me for bait…?” Riddick’s jaw clenched in reply.  
  
The sled stopped once more as the four began to clear a path. Riddick kept his ears open and kept watch as they moved the wreckage enough to get through. They also had to lower the lanterns down into sled itself to be able to pass successfully. Riddick stepped through and then paused on the other side, pulling Jack aside and next to him the second she cleared the debris. Movement above him had him pushing her down to the dirt, a snarl ripping from his chest. He took her torch from her grip and lifted it, keeping the raptor from getting too close. Then they continued forward once more.  
  
Struggling up the hill, he smirked a moment later, seeing the settlement. “Are we almost there?” Jack asked him timidly.  
  
“Yeah, sweetness,” he replied, smirking at her. “Just another hundred feet.”  
  
Making their way through the colony, Riddick dropped the ramp and stepped inside, lighting up the interior from the first cell that was still put in place. The three others stepped inside and glanced back out, just in time to see it start to rain. “Allah be praised,” Imam laughed, helping the docking pilot put the batteries into their needed slots. “Shall we pray together, Mr. Riddick?” He grunted, stretching his back. “It’s painless.”  
  
The murderer snorted. “Why? It’s pointless.” The third cell clicked into place.  
  
Imam continued to be patient with the younger man, replying, “Just because _you_ do not believe in God… does not mean that God does not believe in you.” The fourth cell clicked into place.  
  
Something inside Riddick, maybe the truly-human part that wanted to rejoin the human race desired to rear its head and reveal itself, now that Johns was out of the picture. “Think someone can spend half their life in the slam with a horse bit in their mouth and not believe?” he questioned. “Think he could start out in some trash bin with an umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and not believe? Got it all wrong, Holy Man. I absolutely believe in God. And I absolutely hate the fucker.”  
  
“He is with us nonetheless.”  
  
Riddick finally met the older man’s gaze, stating, “All your boys are already dead. How much faith do you have left, Father?” What Riddick said made the Chrislam priest understand how the convict saw the world and all its cruelty. He sighed and let the subject drop, closing the ramp finally.  
  
Imam sat down and unwrapped his prayer beads from around his wrist. “With so much prayer to make up for,” he muttered, “I scarcely know where to begin.”  
  
Jack replied quietly, “I know where I’d start.” She gently leaned her head against the back of Riddick’s chair. They finally took off, burning a whole mess of the creatures as they did so. The girl let out a sigh of relief once the trembling stopped and the anti-grav kicked in. She smiled. She had survived. She had found her Mate. And they were heading to freedom. A vain thought crossed her mind and she flushed but she was definitely looking forward to taking that first shower and scrubbing away the layers of grime, sweat, and blood.  
  
“A lot of questions, whoever we run into,” Fry murmured, looking to Riddick sitting in the pilot’s chair. “So, what do we tell them about you?”  
  
“We could even run into a merc ship.” Everyone turned to see Jack, brows raised. She shrugged. “What? It’s possible, right?”  
  
The convict replied, facing forward once more, “Tell ‘em Riddick’s dead. He died somewhere on that planet. And if it’s mercs, Jack and I are just survivors you picked up from the settlement.”  
  
Imam cocked his head, considering the child. “What is your real name, child?” Riddick’s ears pricked up as even he did not know this answer.  
  
“Audrey,” she muttered abashedly, “Audrey _Jacqueline_ Badd.” The convict smirked. “I prefer Jack though.” Richard B. Riddick would call her whatever she wanted as long as at the end of the day, she remembered she was his.

**Author's Note:**

> Last thing, I swear… I know I promised some of you a multi-chapter Split fic, and **I am working on it** but my muse got a sudden craving for Riddick and Jack and would **not** be ignored so I sat down and carved out this and its sequel. Please, let me know what you think via kudos or comments, or… if you’re feeling generous… both, please and thank you.


End file.
